Bringer of Doom
by Sable Supernova
Summary: An article about an Alchemist in the Daily Prophet becomes an obsession for Luna, in the hopes of understanding it once and for all. But can she bring the dead back to life? Is it even possible?


_Written for the Ultimate Chocolate Frog Challenge, for the prompt: include the topic of Alchemy in your story._

 _Also written for the Gringotts Prompt Bank, for the following prompts: Cat, Barty/Luna, "Whatever the mind can conceive and believe, the mind can achieve." - Napoleon Hill, wordset: Gift, Scream, Purr, Necklace, Title: Bringer of Doom_

 _Words: 1038_

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 **Bringer of Doom**

"Have you read this?" I asked, gesturing to the article on the front page of the Prophet. Something about it disconcerted me, and I wondered if he felt it too.

"Oh, please. He's an alchemist. He's no one to be feared," he said, shaking his head at me.

"You told me it was a deep understanding of human nature that meant you succeeded in what you did. Don't be ignorant now," I replied, calling him out in a chastise. "Muggles don't understand magic, so they ridicule it, reducing it to children's stories. I fear it may be the same with this." I admitted this to him only because I wanted to hear his opinion, and what he understood of the topic.

"The difference is that the muggles have never seen magic. They don't know anything of its potentials or limitations. We have seen alchemy. We can read the books and try the experiments - many wizards have. We understand that it's useless."

"He claims to have united the four elements in such a way that can bring the dead to life. I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt, because the possibilities of that… they're glorious and terrifying."

"I think you think too much," he said, with a playful grin.

Maybe he was right.

But I couldn't stop thinking about it. I'd read about alchemy, I knew the books and the methods. He hadn't even hidden his path to discovery - what he'd done was right there in the article, surrounded by condescending prose. Maybe he wanted people to try it for themselves. Maybe that was his plan.

I studied it intensely, Barty thought I'd gone mad. I spent hours in my laboratory, pouring over books and mixing molten metals. It took me three weeks to reach my eureka moment.

I thought it would be difficult. I was looking into intricate alchemy, the hard stuff. In the end, I came back to the four elements. Earth, to re-invigorate the body and fix the rot when it set in. Fire, to bring warmth and emotion. Water - the basest of all needs of life. Air - the breath of life.

It took another two weeks of study to decide on my ingredients - what would best represent each of these. I knew they had to be specific, or it would have been stumbled on before now. This was the difficult part.

It took a few tries to get it right, and a few forages in the garden to find recently deceased bugs.

Barry patronised her, at first, but then he grew bitter about it. What on earth did she think she was going to accomplish but failure?

To her, it was simple. "Whatever the mind can conceive and believe, the mind can achieve," she told him with a shrug, and didn't bother watching him as he walked away shaking his head.

It was at three o'clock in the morning when it struck her, the answer. She rushed downstairs and outside, ready to collect the ingredients. In their quiet little house in a small village, on the main road no less, the world was silent. Even outside, the only sounds were the owls, and the breeze through the grasses.

She heard a car, and turned to the road to watch it pass. As its headlights grew nearer, they caught the reflection of something - two somethings - two orbs. Eyes. Luna's heart began to race as she took in the cat, paralysed on the spot by the intrusion. The car didn't even stop.

Luna ran out to the road, lighting her wand to better see the tabby. She placed her hand on a broken neck to feel for a pulse. Nothing.

This was it. This was her chance. She had to get it right this time, she had to. This cat deserved the gift of life one more time.

She gathered her ingredients into her arms, bundled gently against the small, lifeless tabby, and raced inside to her lab.

The beaker, glass, was placed over the flame she brought to life. Luna carefully added rainwater, bringing it to a boil quickly. The other ingredients were added deftly, as if held by a confident and experienced hand. The single dandelion seed went in last.

Then, she had to wait for the potion to cool, stirring softly - this was a part she couldn't rush.

She didn't hear Barty come in until he yawned behind her. She jumped at the intrusion, but said nothing.

"Is that a dead cat?" he asked, without any hint of surprise. Luna supposed she didn't surprise him anymore.

"Yes. I'm going to bring it back to life," she told him, stern.

"You are, are you? Just like that?" She didn't miss the mocking tone in his voice.

It took nearly half an hour for the potion to cool enough, and Luna stirred patiently while Barty sat and watched. Eventually, it was ready.

She knew she couldn't get the cat to drink it, so she hoped that the next best option would be enough. She poured it over the cat, gently, and massaged it in to the still-warm skin. At first, nothing happened. Luna thought she'd failed again. She turned around and began to walk away when she heard it.

A gentle purr. She had to supress a scream as she turned, her hands reaching up to clasp her necklace - amethyst, for calming the nerves. She had to see it with her own eyes.

The cat looked at her, and slowly blinked.

She laughed as she reached out to pet it, and Barty walked over tentatively.

"This isn't possible," he commented, shock settling on his features.

Luna was too happy to register it. She'd won. It had worked.

"Luna, think of the implications of this. You have to keep it a secret," he warned her. She was brought back to earth with a resounding thud, as her heart settled in the pit of her stomach. This was beautiful. This was dangerous.

"No," she replied, resolute. "I have to take it to the Unspeakables. This has to be stopped, not ridiculed in comment articles."

Barty sighed and placed his hand on hers. "Be careful," he told her. "And I'll never call you mad again."


End file.
